Vanished James Delargy (digital book reader .txt) 📖

the magnetic pull of his eyes. She watched his gaze slide from her eyes to her mouth, then back. Locking onto hers. She knew that he felt it too.

Words couldn’t express it.

They should never have met. It was in neither of their plans.

But they had met.

They came to an agreement. To see each other again.

107

Emmaline

An illicit affair between Naiyana Maguire and Ian Kinch was her preferred theory. But it was by no means proven. Oily found it hard to believe that someone like Naiyana would have involved herself with a petty criminal like Ian, whereas Barker thought that there was some other source of foul play involved that they hadn’t yet discovered.

Over the video-conference DI Moore was adamant, her face too close to the camera, looming like a worried spectre of an old oak tree, that she wasn’t to publicly accuse Naiyana Maguire of having an affair and of wittingly or unwittingly having a hand in the death of her husband. Certainly not without any solid evidence to back it up. She summed it up in a few sentences, the subtext being for them all to say nothing.

‘Imagine you and your child have been kidnapped and put through hell, your husband murdered, only to find out that the police believe you were in on it. How would that make you feel?’

Emmaline understood her point. But she also understood what lay beneath it. Without a body, without any strong indication that she was dead – the blood on the mirror and traces on Lorcan’s clothes wasn’t considered strong enough evidence – then Naiyana Maguire could still be alive. And worse yet, she could sue for defamation. Nothing worried the boss more than the purse strings. Another reason for Emmaline not to seek promotion. The higher you climbed, defending the budget mattered more than defending against crime.

So they needed evidence that Naiyana Maguire was either dead or alive. Finding Ian Kinch might help in that.

To that end, the town of Hurton was interviewed again. Previous statements were re-examined for anything that might have been missed. A photograph of Ian Kinch was put in front of Bobby Marley but the kid couldn’t say for certain that it was the man he’d seen with Naiyana.

Anand and Barker were sent out to Ulysses Hitchens for a second time but he had nothing to add aside from the extensive number of shooting stars he’d observed last night.

The net widened to include Leonora and Kalgoorlie but drew a blank there too. As if Naiyana, Dylan and Ian had disappeared into thin air.

Their former colleagues were re-interviewed but this added nothing other than more speculation, worry for Naiyana’s and Dylan’s well-being, and sympathy and shock at the murders.

Another major news story had broken overnight too, bumping the Kallayee Killings – as they were now known – to the bottom of the front page. The connection between Chester Grant’s family and Brightside Foods had been revealed and plastered all over the papers, questions now being asked about his conduct in parliament, his lobbying record, his private life, with some even drawing tentative links around the disappearance of Naiyana and Dylan Maguire and the death of her husband.

Emmaline decided that it was a good time to question him again.

Chester Grant’s office was under siege from reporters, a ring of security guards posted on the doors as if the prime minister himself was barricaded inside. Emmaline waved her credentials at the door. Zhao and Oily followed her in.

Chester Grant’s secretary didn’t even attempt to stop her from entering his office, too busy on the phone placating callers.

Inside, Chester stood facing the window like he was contemplating jumping while two men and a woman gabbled on mobile phones. All three dressed and spoke like lawyers.

‘Mr Grant?’ said Emmaline.

Chester turned and an already resigned face sunk even further. Then, as if suddenly plugged into a mains, he lit up.

‘Is this your doing?’ he said, pointing towards the floor. Emmaline assumed he meant the palaver downstairs.

‘Nothing to do with me.’

‘Only two people knew. You and—’

He suddenly shut up and looked to his lawyers who were abruptly ending their phone calls.

‘Me and who, Mr Grant?’

‘My client would like to say nothing at this time,’ said the female lawyer, smoothing down her black dress as she stood.

‘I know what he would like to do but he has questions to answer.’ Emmaline stared at Chester Grant. ‘You and who?’

Chester moved from the window, barricading himself behind his desk.

‘I’m not going to help you. Leaking this—’

‘I’m assuring you I didn’t, Mr Grant. And if I didn’t…’

Emmaline let this hang. If she wasn’t the one who had leaked the details, then it might have been the other person who had known. Naiyana Maguire.

‘She’s still alive?’ asked Chester, a mix of hope and regret on his harried face, the thick beard masking the paleness.

The female lawyer stepped in again. ‘I must strongly advise you to not say anything at this time.’

But Chester Grant was focused on Emmaline, his eyes transformed from weary to wired.

‘She’s still missing. We both know she had information that was potentially damaging to you. And we know you met her on the thirtieth, don’t we, Mr Grant?’

‘You don’t need to answer that here.’ This was the eldest lawyer now, someone who looked as if they should have retired years ago. Probably a partner in the firm. The big boys drafted in.

‘He doesn’t, but it would be worse if it was later discovered that he didn’t help with the investigation.’

Chester Grant slammed his hands on the desk, causing the plaque stating his name and many lettered qualifications to fall to the floor.

‘Did you meet outside of Hurton too?’ asked Emmaline. ‘Was there ever something more between you? An affair?’

Emmaline asked because of the beard and white SUV. It was a long shot but worth ruling out.

Chester Grant froze, his mouth open.

‘Well, Mr Grant?’

‘No. I love my wife very much.’

‘You look guilty.’

‘Last time I checked, looking guilty wasn’t a crime, Detective,’ said the